


A New Mythology

by summerwines



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Actor Lee Donghyuck, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming of Age, Dreamscapes, Elemental Magic, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Trauma, Supernatural Elements, Swimmer Mark Lee (NCT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28503951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwines/pseuds/summerwines
Summary: It’s a story that’s been told time and again — boy meets boy, boys fall in love, their families object, they’re pulled apart, and eventually, brought back together. What complicates things are the rains that pour from Mark and his dreams, and the fire that Donghyuck can barely control. The myths would tell them they’re meant to stay apart. The universe, it seems, would beg to disagree.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 39
Kudos: 151
Collections: Markhyuck Week 2021





	A New Mythology

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Mark practices water magic, and Donghyuck uses fire magic. The story spans from their teenage years all the way to adulthood. The basic premise is like Romeo and Juliet in that they're star-crossed lovers (though that's about as much inspo this gets from the play). The first part is told from Mark's perspective, the second from Donghyuck's, the third in halves.
> 
> This was a doozy to write since I haven't written anything fantasy-like in a while, but I loved doing this, so here's hoping y'all enjoy. 
> 
> Oh, and this was meant to be written for Day 4 for MH Week (Dreams/Magic), but I am...pretty late. There's a lot of great fanwork from [this event](https://twitter.com/mh_week), so send the mods some love!!!!! <3

**{Part 1}**

His hair is a shade of auburn red.

That’s the first thing that catches Mark’s eye when he sees the new kid riding his bicycle along their block.

At the time, they are both thirteen, an age when things are so much simpler.

New kid’s grin is sinister and his legs are in brisk rotation as he pushes on the pedals of his bike. Mark watches him from inside a car, as he’s driven to another lesson, the first of his lectures this month, lectures that are meant to make him greater.

Against his own volition, Mark finds himself among the clouds that night. All the while, the new kid -- the one they call Donghyuck -- remains on his mind. They’ve been talking about him in school, the kid from the other class who got called to the headmaster’s office on his second day because he refused to dye his hair to a natural colour.

Tonight, Mark is supposed to bring a storm, but all he can manage is a drizzle. The wind is an onslaught on his hair and blue robe. His arms are outstretched as the clouds turn a faint shade of grey. The whole time, he remains calm, closes his eyes, and envisions two things: a cloud, punctured, and Donghyuck, with his red hair as he pedalled through the sidewalk.

And Mark recalls something else that piqued his interest.

The air around Donghyuck was warm and below his feet, there was fire.

It’s curious, because no one else could see it.

_“Focus, son.”_

The voice booms in his head and it’s enough to snap him back to reality.

That night, Mark fails. When he jolts awake, he finds himself in the locked room, the floor wet with the water that escaped his palms. In a moment, the door clicks open and his grandfather is there, examining Mark behind his circular lenses.

“You will try again next month,” he says, and Mark nods, agrees, complies. At an early age, he has learned that resistance will always be futile.

🌊 🌊 🌊

They are fourteen when Donghyuck joins the theatre club. 

When Mark becomes aware, what initially comes to mind is how he finally has an actual excuse to stare at Donghyuck without it being weird.

The first time Mark sees him perform, it’s during an assembly where the theatre kids are asked to stage an anti-drug role play. He probably doesn’t mean to, but Donghyuck turns the skit into comedy, as his delivery is callous and blithe, voice a tad too sarcastic for a kid who catches his friend taking pills. Donghyuck holds a hand over his mouth as his friend Renjun tells him of his drug problem. “But that’ll land you in jail!” Donghyuck shouts, “ _Jail,_ my friend, _jail!_ ”

The script needs a bit of work, for sure.

In the winter, the club stages a play where Donghyuck acts as an anxiety-ridden teenager. Mark has swim practice after school and he’s competing soon at a regional competition, but he makes time to watch the rehearsals. Whenever he’s free, he attempts to be as inconspicuous as possible, sitting at the back of the auditorium. Even from there, the air around Donghyuck reaches him: the warmth, the fire. 

Mark knows what this means. He knows he and Donghyuck are alike, in that both of them have a certain brand of magic in their veins. Mark is sure of it.

There could be no other explanation for the trails of fire Donghyuck leaves as he walks through the hallways, fire visible to no one but Mark.

It’s one of the things that makes Mark greater than any other water wielder: that he’s able to sense others who hold the same magic. The power is something he’s born with, something he never needed to be trained to do.

This is how he finds out about Jeno, his childhood friend from the swim team, whose powers are similar to Mark’s, albeit much weaker. This is also how he finds out about countless others, people in the street, people in trains, upperclassmen, young children, some of whom may not even know about their own magic.

Jeno, unlike Mark, has no idea that Donghyuck has powers and simply assumes Mark has developed some kind of weird interest in the other boy.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” says Jeno, while Mark floats on the surface of the pool water. They’re on a break in between laps, their bodies weary from their coach’s exertion. Mark has been listless the whole afternoon and when they are asked to to swim 100M, his time extends due to lack of concentration. He’s been daydreaming. He’s been hearing Donghyuck’s voice in his head. During their last rehearsal, Donghyuck was magnificent. Donghyuck’s voice filled the auditorium: he stuttered, then screamed, then he went silent as he stared into space. He heaved, hands on his hair, while Mark breathed along with him. The stage, while Donghyuck stood at the centre, felt as though it had been set on fire. In Mark’s eyes, everything was orange. 

Jeno pulls himself up and sits at the pool gutter. “Have you ever even talked to him?” 

Mark closes his eyes and breathes deep. “I’m not worthy.”

He’s thought about approaching Donghyuck time and again, perhaps making some excuse to waltz into the other class just to speak to him. But he decides against it, feeling as though he’d be nothing but an annoyance in Donghyuck’s life.

Jeno waves his hand and Mark furrows his brows. A stream of water flies into the air and flows into Mark’s nose.

Mark coughs and curses and pulls Jeno in to drown him. A ridiculous course of action, if he thinks about it. Because people like them could never drown, even if they wanted to.

🌊 🌊 🌊

His resolve only arrives when he is fifteen. This year, he and Donghyuck are in the same class and their teacher assigns them to sit beside each other, their desks smacked together at the corner of the classroom. Mark, for months, tries his best not to stare and not to let the warmth distract him. 

What makes things difficult, however, is the realisation that Donghyuck not only feels warm, he smells warm too, like citrus, and the way he talks, lilting and smooth, is just as warm.

“I need you to pay attention,” Donghyuck says, voice stern. They are partners for a Maths assignment, and Mark had spaced out while they were meant to do the work.

Mark nods and Donghyuck sighs.

It’s free period and the classroom is noisy. Mark manages to focus on Donghyuck’s voice despite this. He concentrates and hears him out as Donghyuck explains what the word problems entail, how they’re meant to solve them.

“Hey, um.” His resolve has arrived. Mark will talk to him, as in properly talk to him, about something other than schoolwork. “Did you--get the lead? For the winter musical. I heard you auditioned for that.”

Donghyuck turns and looks at him quizzically, pen in hand as he’d been working on question 3.

Mark fixes his gaze and tries on a small smile, “Did you?”

Donghyuck looks away and scratches the back of his head. Somehow, the heat around him has grown stronger.

“No.” Donghyuck diverts his attention back to writing. “They said I’d be a handful if they gave me the part. And that my singing wasn’t good enough.”

 _Oh._ Mark’s heart sinks. He only wants the best for Donghyuck.

“Fuck ‘em.” Why wouldn’t they want Donghyuck? Mark frowns and takes his pen, pretending to start the computation.

Donghyuck laughs at that, and a smile is plastered on his face for the rest of the hour.

“Thank you,” he says.

Curiously, this is all it takes for the overwhelming heat to subside. Mark smiles, glances at Donghyuck one more time, and makes a mental note.

🌊 🌊 🌊

It takes the drama teacher another year to make the right decision and finally choose Donghyuck for the lead role in the next production. 

“I’m nervous,” Donghuck tells Mark, the day he was told. They are sixteen now, and by an odd twist of fate, still seatmates. “I’m nervous but, like -- so friggin’ excited, you have no idea.”

He’s particularly warm today, as expected. They’re in the classroom having lunch, the sun casting its light through the windows. Mark is flattered, greatly so, that he’s one of the first people in whom Donghyuck confides. Since their first year as seatmates, they’ve formed a sort of friendship -- not the closest, not by any means, but Mark became someone Donghyuck would speak to often during breaks, someone he would always greet in the mornings, someone he could talk to about his hobbies, someone worth speaking to.

The musical is all Donghyuck talks about in the next couple of months. Mark listens to him intently and learns that Donghyuck has always dreamed of doing a theatre for a living. His parents don’t like it and want him to pursue more practical things. “But I’m not gonna listen to them. Fuck all that.”

“That’s right,” Mark says. That day, he buys Donghyuck a sweet bun from the snack shop, and they eat together under a tree. Donghyuck shows Mark a playlist he made from some musicals he enjoys, and he puts an earphone in Mark’s ear. “You’ll love this,” he says, his cheeks a little red, his warmth a little stronger today. “It’s in English, but like...just listen.”

Mark smiles. The song is called _A Heart Full of Love_ from Les Miserables. 

“Dude...I love it,” he says. 

Donghyuck lifts an arm to his mouth and looks away. He nods and says, “I’m glad.”

By extension, the musical is all Mark ever talks about whenever he walks home with Jeno after swim practice, much to Jeno’s chagrin. “He’s gonna play a prince, I think,” he tells Jeno, while Jeno chews on a popsicle, his attention waning. “They’re not letting a lot of people watch the rehearsals, these days. So I’m kind of anxious.”

Jeno doesn’t respond, but Mark continues the drawl on and on about Donghyuck, his role, the anxiety he feels on Donghyuck’s behalf.

And whenever Mark is in the locked room at his grandfather’s mansion, Donghyuck is still all he can think about. He is there only once a month, as his grandfather comes and goes from different towns and cities. Inside the room, he is meant to channel his emotions and better his magic. By now, he’s able to create mild storms. Today, he does exactly that as he feels himself rise in the air inside the dream.

Outside the room, in his grandfather’s backyard, they make him do so much more: making whirlpools in the family pond, extracting water from the roots of a tree, controlling the currents in the nearby river, past the woods behind the house.

His parents, his grandparents, Jeno, and all the other water wielders can only dream of doing all that Mark can do. But Mark finds nothing special about it all. Oftentimes, he wonders if Donghyuck would be able to summon flares from the sky, from the sun or the stars. Now that would be something to brag about.

He’s never actually seen Donghyuck use his magic, though Mark remains certain that the magic is there.

The time does come for him to witness exactly what Donghyuck can do. Though the circumstances are far from ideal.

It’s on the day of the musical, one late afternoon in early January. Donghyuck is visibly nervous the whole morning and he asks Mark if he could text him exactly 30 minutes before the musical starts as a way of motivation.

“You always know the right thing to say,” Donghyuck tells him, while they stand outside the auditorium, Donghyuck’s hands clasped behind his back.

The request is strange, but Mark agrees and nods, while Donghyuck smiles then averts his gaze.

 _‘You’ll be amazing,_ ’ is Mark’s first text.

‘ _And you look really, really handsome_ ,’ is his second. It’s a whole lie, because Mark is still outside, waiting for the theatre club to let the audience inside. But he knows Donghyuck will look handsome no matter what they put on him.

It’s a shame, how it all turns out.

Donghyuck plays a young prince who falls in love with a girl from another kingdom, a run-of-the-mill plot with music accompaniment played by the school band. In the first few scenes, Donghyuck does magnificently, at least in Mark’s eyes, as he captures the regalness of the character and hits all the notes perfectly.

During the second act is when it all falls apart. In the middle of a scene, Donghyuck stutters. And for a moment, he forgets his line. Mark is at the edge of his seat, the audience just as silent as their eyes shoot daggers onto the stage.

Mark is confident that Donghyuck can recover, but unfortunately, his confidence wanes when Donghyuck begins messing up the words to the songs.

The embarrassment is not apparent in the way Donghyuck moves. He keeps a serious expression and he walks around the stage with the poise of a prince. But Mark can tell, from the heat that surrounds the auditorium, that something is amiss.

This time, it’s a heat that not only he can feel. Mothers bring out their hand fans; sweat drips from the foreheads of many a student.

To counteract, Mark clenches a fist and attempts to strengthen the cool from the air conditioner. He knows he can do it if he concentrates enough.

During the curtain call, Donghyuck isn’t there and Mark’s heart begins to pound amid the audience's claps and chatter.

Mark runs out of the auditorium and tries to track down the centre of the heat. He is still here; Mark can feel him. 

And he does find him, crouched over the sink in one of the bathrooms. He’s still in his robes, a gaudy yellow that Mark found to be a great disgrace, as someone like Donghyuck should never wear something that ugly.

He shakes his head; thoughts on the clothing are merely secondary, as he catches a glimpse of the fire.

It’s a real, tangible fire on Donghyuck’s palms. It lets out a faint stench and small plumes of smoke. He only sees it for a moment before Donghyuck extinguishes the flame. When he sees Mark, his eyes enlarge and his mouth falls open.

“Mark.”

He rushes to Donghyuck and grabs his wrist. His palms are black as if coal had been rubbed onto Donghyuck’s skin.

“Does it hurt?” Mark asks, his eyes fixed on Donghyuck’s.

“What?” Donghyuck pulls away but Mark tightens his grip.

“I said -- does it hurt?”

Donghyuck stares at him, his expression so sorrowful that Mark just wants to lean in, kiss him, and make it all go away.

Donghyuck nods. “I can’t control it,” he says, his eyes downcast. What comes out next is almost a sob, “It hurts so much, Mark.”

There’s a click in his head and a throbbing in his chest. His throat is tight; his thoughts are a blur.

He decides, then and there, that he can’t just do nothing while Donghyuck is hurting this much.

He holds both Donghyuck’s hands and leans forward, resting his forehead on Donghyuck’s. Slowly but surely, he feels the power bursting through his hands.

 _Water can be a healing force,_ his grandpa once told him, before bringing Mark into a room, where an ailing old woman lay asleep. His task was simple: concentrate, touch her cheek, and convey a force that mends and dulls the heat of her fever. He succeeded in the task, had done so with flying colours.

He does the same for Donghyuck. Their eyes are fixed on each other while their hands remain clasped. Swirls of blue begin to surround all the places where Donghyuck hurts.

“Your eyes.” Donghyuck stares and Mark knows exactly what he means. Mark’s eyes must be blue.

The burns dissipate and once Mark lets him go, Donghyuck peers at his hands and he makes two fists, his expression blank.

Silence falls between them. A silence that Donghyuck breaks when he whispers.

“A water wielder.”

Mark should have foreseen how Donghyuck would react. He should not have been this rash.

“I have to…” Donghyuck looks at Mark with fear in his eyes, an expression that sends a chill down Mark’s spine. He walks backward, and jolts when his body meets the sink. “I have to go. We can’t…” He shakes his head. “I can’t talk to you. I can’t. We mustn’t.”

Mark reaches out for Donghyuck’s hand but he swiftly inches away. All of this before he rushes out of the bathroom, leaving Mark behind with the faint sound of dripping water.

 _You must never reveal what you are._ His grandfather’s words reverberate once more. _Especially to someone who wields fire._

His mouth curls. It was a warning that Mark tried his best to forget. Now, the words cut a wound in his heart. He begins to feel sick.

 _If a fire wielder ever finds out, all hell will surely break loose_.

🌊 🌊 🌊

For weeks, Mark is fearful.

He doesn’t tell anyone about what happened with Donghyuck and neither does he attempt to speak to Donghyuck at all, their relationship reverting to its original state of distance and longing. Luckily, the seats have been rearranged and they acknowledge each other only when absolutely necessary -- for schoolwork, and when they meet each other in the hallway every morning. Though all they do is nod and say as little as possible.

Strangely, Donghyuck’s warmth becomes dull. Mark wonders and concludes that he might be just as afraid and this fear has taken away his spirit. It’s all Mark’s fault.

Which is not to say that the warmth never surfaces. It comes when Donghyuck hears a joke that makes him laugh, when he has his headphones fastened to his ears during breaktime, perhaps listening to showtunes, or pop-rock to help appease his heart.

Meanwhile, Mark remains dejected and afraid that a pack of fire wielders will come for him, drag him out of his home, and subject him to all the terrors one associates with fire. Any day now; it’s only about time.

The fear affects his performance at swim meets and it affects his concentration during his next lesson. His family admonishes him and they make him stay in the locked room for longer. One Sunday evening, when Mark fails to reroute the currents in the river, his grandfather tells him that he has to stay in the room for a whole night.

Mark is pulled, and once they’re at the door, he glares. “Fine,” he says. “Watch if I care.”

That night, he manages to brew up a thunderstorm, strong enough to break the windows in the mansion and very likely, in many other houses in the neighbourhood. In his dream, he is above the clouds and his eyes shift from blue to yellow, as lightning crashes from the sky. He shakes uncontrollably, while his tears are on outpour, streaming down his cheeks.

When he comes to his senses, they show him what he’s done.

“You have done me proud,” his grandfather says, as he takes Mark’s hand amidst the shattered glass on the carpet.

Mark is still before he nods. “Thank you, grandfather,” he says, though grateful is the last thing he feels.

In another month, Mark is made to brew a storm that’s even more powerful, enough to pull out roofs and flood the lower floors of houses. He cries for a whole night when it happens. They never tell him if anyone is hurt, but there is no doubt that this is the case. 

School is cancelled for a week. Towards the end of the week, on a Friday afternoon, Mark decides to stay in bed. He is in his own home, a much smaller house from his grandfather’s. He connects his phone to a pair of bluetooth speakers and plays music loud enough for the neighbours to hear. It’s a ballad by BooHwal, an artist he knows Donghyuck listens to, as he caught a glimpse of Donghyuck’s go-to playlist months ago when they were still speaking.

Mark plays song after song, at times in a loop, until his phone suddenly rings, interrupting the cacophony of the guitars.

His eyes widen when he sees who is calling.

 _Lee Donghyuck_ , it says, the name in large white characters on his screen.

“Hello?” goes Mark. “Donghyuck?”

There’s silence, then a buzz before he hears a voice. “Hi.” Donghyuck pauses, breathes, “It’s been a minute.”

Mark swallows and presses the phone to his ear. “Why are you calling?”

“I had a question...”

Mark prepares for the worst. 

“I wanted to ask if you had something to do with the storm.”

“What?”

“The storm, Mark. Was it you?”

Mark is silent. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t find the words.

“Storms like that don’t just happen out of the blue. So it was either you or someone from your clan.”

Mark nods his head as if Donghyuck could see him.

“Yes, it was me. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“No--I have lots to be sorry about. The town’s a wreck, Hyuck. And it’s all my fault.”

“Ah, but I hear old Mr Lee sent a pretty hefty donation to the mayor. Repairs are going quicker than everyone thought.”

Mark’s forehead creases. “You know my grandfather?”

“Everyone does. I’d be stupid not to.”

“Why have you never mentioned it?”

“I didn’t think it was important. At least at the time. And I couldn’t care less, really. Though I have to say, when I saw his picture on the paper, I could tell you come from a family of, well, _lookers_.”

“Donghyuck, that’s my grandpa. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“It was more of a compliment for you than it was for him.”

Mark closes his eyes. “Is this really why you called?”

“No, Mark.”

“Then what is it?”

He hears Donghyuck breathe. The silence that comes feels weighty and Mark has to roll over and press his forehead to the bed.

“Can I come over?” Donghyuck says. “I know it’s not allowed. But I need to see you.”

There’s an ache in his head that won’t let up. “Do you know where I live?”

Donghyuck says that he does and that he can walk there easily. Mark doesn’t know what could be so important that Donghyuck would need to see him right away. But it’s Donghyuck and Mark can never refuse him.

For half an hour, Mark senses a certain warmth, nearing him. He can feel it even from afar.

When Donghyuck arrives, it’s a quarter past three. When Mark sees him, the first thing that comes to his head is how cute Donghyuck looks in his green hoodie. His cheeks are flushed when he arrives, and he sends a nervous smile Mark’s way. 

Mark’s parents are out, leaving the two of them alone at the house. Mark leads him up the stairs and into his bedroom, where they both sit on Mark’s bed. Donghyuck’s feet are flat on the floor while Mark sits against the wall, legs folded against his chest.

“This is hard,” says Donghyuck. 

“It’s all my fault,” Mark says.

“No. Mark, don’t do that. It’s not. It’s really not.”

Donghyuck bows his head. “So I bet you’re wondering why I came here,” he says.

Mark swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “But I’m guessing you’re here to end things once and for all. And Donghyuck, I understand. Fire and water should never come together. My grandpa taught me that. And I know everyone in your family would say the same.”

“Mark, _please_ , I can’t take it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Donghyuck turns his head, facing Mark, looking him straight in the eye. He smiles, wistfully.

“I missed you, you know. I really fucking missed you. Even when we see each other in school, I miss you. And now, I’m just...I’m so over missing you and I just wanna be with you, Mark.” 

Mark’s lips part, but he remains silent. 

“Did you miss _me_?” Donghyuck asks.

“I don’t understand.” Mark shifts and swiftly moves so he can be closer to Donghyuck, sitting beside him. 

Donghyuck lowers his head. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Donghyuck, look at me.”

He does. And Mark sees those same eyes he saw on that terrible night; he sees the pain and the fear.

“I was going to tell you after the musical--I was going to tell you that I liked you. Like you--present tense. I mean, I thought my feelings would disappear when I found out about you. But they haven’t. They’re still here. And I don’t know what to do.”

Mark is speechless. He looks down and notices the orange that’s begun to emanate from Donghyuck’s hands.

“I thought I was the only one,” Mark says, finally.

Slowly, he lifts his hands towards Donghyuck’s wrists. He pulls them up so Donghyuck’s palms can find calm on Mark’s cheeks.

“Cool down,” Mark says. “All this warmth--give it all to me. I don’t mind.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks are flushed. Mark closes his eyes, bows, and presses his palms against Donghyuck’s hands, squeezing them closer to him.

“I’ve had a crush on you for ages,” Mark says, brave enough to take all that Donghyuck is offering.

“Just a crush?” Donghyuck says, then Mark smiles.

“Well.” When he opens his eyes, Donghyuck is smiling too.

Casting all their worries aside, Mark and Donghyuck hold each other in their arms for the rest of the afternoon. They lie together and Mark kisses the tip of Donghyuck’s nose. Donghyuck returns this with a kiss on the edge of Mark’s lips. They go to-and-fro, kissing each other’s cheeks, noses, foreheads, ears. They do so until the inevitable comes and their lips meet in a chaste kiss. Donghyuck feels soft and warm, as expected.

“I hope I’m not too cold,” Mark says, worried that Donghyuck doesn’t feel as good as he does and that the ice that lingers in Mark’s veins has somehow displaced, transferring to Donghyuck.

“Why would you even think that?” Donghyuck says, and the words almost bring Mark to tears.

Donghyuck licks into Mark’s tongue and Mark hugs him tighter, returning the favour. When the clock strikes six, Donghyuck will have to leave, but until then, they will stay together and Mark will feel warm. The door will be locked, but he won’t be in darkness. Instead, the whole room is filled with a faint orange light and Mark will bask until he turns to ashes.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“You’re happier.”

Jeno’s eyes drill into him. Mark submerges himself and swims to the bottom of the pool to avoid the conversation.

For a whole month, Mark doesn’t tell him. He only does so when he absolutely has to: or rather, when Jeno catches him.

Their homeroom teacher assigns Mark to do the gardening today, and Donghyuck volunteers to help. He should be happy about it, but today, the sun swelters. And when there’s heat, the smell from Donghyuck’s body is all but unbearable. Mark doesn’t know if he can hold back.

They find themselves alone at the school garden, small patches of land outside the gymnasium. He waters the dwarf trees with an elephant-shaped sprinkler, while Donghyuck kneels, tiny shovel in hand so he can dig and plant the seedlings. But work slowly turns into play, as Donghyuck smears mud onto Mark’s cheek and Mark takes his revenge by attacking him with the water from the sprinkler. They laugh and tackle each other to the ground. After a brief struggle, Mark falls on top of him and Donghyuck pulls him down for a kiss. Mark smiles into it, cups Donghyuck’s face, and by way of magic, cleans their faces of the dirt.

“Mark, what the hell--what are you doing?”

The voice makes both Mark and Donghyuck spring to their feet. 

Jeno stands a few meters away, a bag slung around his shoulders. His face is incredulous, forehead creased and jawline hardened.

“You were using your magic,” Jeno says. “And you were--You two were--”

“Kissing,” Donghyuck goes.

Mark swallows. He thinks he might be sick.

“Is that a problem?” Donghyuck says, and then he takes Mark’s hand. “We’re boyfriends; of course we’d kiss.”

The conversation becomes testy, Jeno saying he wasn’t concerned about the kissing. “I’m happy for you, I really am. Mark’s been crushing on you for ages, fuck. But that’s not what I was actually concerned about.”

Mark is forced to explain, though he only provides part of the truth as he sits Jeno down. So he can talk to Jeno in peace, Mark tells Donghyuck to go wash up in the bathroom, to which Donghyuck agrees. Then Mark tells Jeno how he and Donghyuck got together a week after the storm, and then he lies, telling Jeno that Donghyuck caught him using his magic when they were at his house. Jeno nods and appears to believe him, though he is also wary. He doesn’t speak until they’re in their swim gear at the pool later in the day.

“You know your grandpa won’t be pleased,” Jeno says, while he and Mark do their warm-ups, rotations of the shoulders and feet.

“That’s why we won’t tell him,” Mark says.

Jeno eyes him, dubious. “It’ll be hard to keep secrets from him.”

“I know that.”

“Just be careful, Mark.”

Mark grits his teeth. “Alright, I will, fuck. Just leave me alone, okay?”

The rest of the afternoon, they don’t talk. In the evening, Mark has a lesson at the mansion, so he can’t seek Donghyuck for comfort. In the night, he’s locked once more in the room and he’s asked to make a storm somewhere farther away, somewhere less suspicious. They tell him to focus and think about something that makes him angry. 

The directive works, though he doesn’t have to try very hard.

He’s shaking once he wakes and someone cradles his head once he is dry. He thinks it might be his mother, but his vision is shrouded and his body is numb. His grandfather makes no attempt at comfort. He congratulates Mark on another success, but his voice remains stern and cold. Mark cannot see him, but the ice in his words makes his identity very clear.

“Thank you,” Mark says, his voice quiet. And he says it one more time, to no one in particular, before he feels himself crash, his body succumbing to sleep. 

🌊 🌊 🌊

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Whoever says what barely matters, as they exchange the same words multiple times over the course of a year.

During this time, Mark learns more about Donghyuck and the fire wielders. All his life, Donghyuck has been taught, much like Mark, that the other side would bring nothing but harm. Donghyuck’s parents warn him about the evils of water magic, how its makers will stop at nothing to ensure that the fire wielders cease to exist. They recall a time when it almost happened, when a powerful water wielder took out a band of fire wielders one by one, slowly, until the rest of them had to go into hiding.

“But how could you be evil?” Donghyuck says, as they lie this time on the grass behind the school. “You’re the nicest boy I’ve ever met. That’s why I like you so much.”

Mark blushes at the comment. Though the story keeps him thinking, about all the stories he’s been told himself, how they’re eerily similar to Donghyuck’s, as if each side co-wrote the same mythology.

He learns more about Donghyuck’s parents and the differences in their upbringings. Donghyuck, for one, has always been told to withhold and strive for moderation. “Though I know they just think I’m too weak. Which is true, I guess. I’ve never been able to control the fire. I can’t do things with it. It’s just there, part of my blood.”

Donghyuck offers him a lot about himself, but Mark can’t seem to return to favour.

He’s afraid that if Donghyuck knows what he truly is, then he won’t love him anymore. So instead, Mark fills their conversations with half-truths. He tells Donghyuck about the lessons, though he lies about how often they occur. He doesn’t tell Donghyuck about the locked room, though he does tell him about the whirlpools in the pond and the dreams of rain.

“Your family’s pretty hardcore,” Donghyuck says, this time as they cuddle on Mark’s bed on a quiet weekend.

“I guess they are.” Mark ponders on it and decides _hardcore_ is a great understatement.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, okay?” 

“Okay.” Mark nods, happy to be cared for, happy to be hugged.

“And Mark?” Donghyuck shifts and rests his head on Mark’s chest.

“Yes, Hyuck?” 

“I love you,” Donghyuck says.

“I know.” Mark feels that it’s true. He feels the heat of it, the explosiveness of Donghyuck’s emotions. There’s no denying it, and it’s so, so strange that the feelings are so indisputable. Why would Donghyuck love someone like him?

Whenever Donghyuck says that he loves Mark, it’s always a signal for Mark to start kissing him. Mark obliges and holds Donghyuck’s face. His heart pounds and his mind reels, well-aware of the dangers of their actions.

There’s respite in the knowledge that no one else in his family has the same powers of detection. Even when Donghyuck is in the presence of Mark’s mother and father, they will never suspect, because they cannot feel the same fire.

What brings stress is the knowledge that Donghyuck isn’t one to be careful. His impulsiveness has always attracted Mark to him, but context needs to be considered.

Donghyuck, at Mark’s encouragement, has developed his resolve to learn how to control his magic. Mark teaches him what his grandpa did: how to focus the energy on your hands and how to course one’s emotions into one’s skin.

The advice leads to Donghyuck lighting matches in Mark’s backyard. Once he lights a match, he swipes the fire into his hand and compels the flames to grow. Mark puts it out the moment the fire touches the grass but Donghyuck persists, lights another one with his mind, then engulfs the flame in a closed fist. When Donghyuck presents his hand, it is covered in a light flame, glowing red and orange.

Somehow, these lessons feel more sinful than secret kisses under the covers. While the gates of hell will surely open if they are caught doing the latter, the former will release the demons in a way they cannot control.

This doesn’t stop Donghyuck’s recklessness. Mark continues to love him for it. His heart beats wildly every time he sees the fire coming through the tips of Donghyuck’s fingers. It beats out love, out of awe, and out of sheer terror.

🌊 🌊 🌊

On a day they are meant to be happy: that’s when they are finally caught.

They have both turned eighteen; the seasons pass, the cold autumn making way for a colder December. It’s the 23rd, the longest night, and Donghyuck invites Mark over to his house. Tomorrow it will be Christmas Eve and their families will keep them busy, so today will be one of the only days they have until New Year’s.

It starts innocently enough, with Mark in Donghyuck’s room, a laptop open on the bed so they can marathon animated movies while the lights are dimmed, almost completely dark. Donghyuck hums the melody that the protagonist sings, while Mark listens well and holds Donghyuck close. They are halfway through a second film when they get distracted, Donghyuck making a home between Mark’s legs, head tilted back on Mark’s shoulders. Mark smiles and leans down for a sweet kiss. They start with a brief one, which leads to a thousand more.

Mark straddles him later and Donghyuck pulls him down for more kisses. The laptop is snapped shut and pushed to the side. They press themselves together and Mark feels a stir in his body, a churn in the stomach and a curl in the toes. A line of spit forms between their mouths when they part. Mark holds Donghyuck’s face and they both shake, Mark’s hands and Donghyuck’s lips.

“What’s happening to us?” Mark says, with a nervous laugh.

“I dunno,” Donghyuck says. “But I like it.”

Tonight will be the night. They will cross a line that will bring them closer. He’s thought of this so many times, in the shower, in bed at night, whenever he’s in Donghyuck’s presence.

Mark slips off his shirt and helps Donghyuck do the same. Donghyuck is never usually shy, but he’s beet-red as they sit together, half-naked. 

“My body’s shit,” Donghyuck says, unable to look him in the eye.

“What? Donghyuck, you look amazing.”

Mark leans in to kiss him, pushing Donghyuck against the wall. 

Donghyuck’s voice is hoarse in between kisses, “I can’t help what’s gonna happen.”

“What do you mean?” Mark kisses his cheek, then he nibbles on Donghyuck’s neck.

“You haven’t noticed?” Donghyuck says, then Mark feels the touch of Donghyuck’s hand, hot on his belly.

They’ve begun to glow, Donghyuck’s hands a faint shade of red. Their eyes meet. Mark licks his lips.

“Mark, they’re blue again.”

His eyes, Mark reckons. He smiles and marvels at what he creates. Their hands, together, release a soft mixture of lights, red and blue. 

“I can’t believe it,” Donghyuck says, and his eyes have changed as well. They’re red now, and Mark has to smile at the sight.

Soon enough, their hands are not only ones that begin to glow. The light ascends toward their arms, translucent lines of red and blue cascading through their bodies. They embrace each other and Mark bathes in Donghyuck’s energy. His mind becomes an avalanche of questions, about what this is, how this is possible, why he’s never been told that this is something that could happen, why they never told him that a power like this exists.

Once they cross the line, he will find the answers. 

He doesn’t notice any other sound as he feels Donghyuck’s hand reaching for his zipper.

He can only concentrate on Donghyuck’s mouth, for which he lends a kiss, soft and sweet.

It’s too late before they realise that the door has been forced open. It’s too late for them to stop when they see Donghyuck’s father, a man whose face Mark can no longer remember. What he does remember is the shock and the booming of a voice, Donghyuck’s arm being pulled, Mark being pushed away.

“Dad, please.” Donghyuck struggles, heaves, his body shaking in fear. 

“Don’t hurt him,” Mark says, in desperation, as he rushes to grab Donghyuck’s hand.

“Get out,” says Donghyuck’s father.

“No, you can’t make me.”

The man screams again, ordering Mark to leave, and Mark catches a glimpse of his eyes, quite literally red with rage. He’s filled with a terror that he cannot describe, and he’s shaking, unable to move from his spot.

“Mark, just listen to him.” 

Donghyuck’s eyes have returned to their normal colour. Mark is still shaking, but he’s able to pick up his shirt and he’s able to look at Donghyuck one last time before he runs.

He doesn’t know if the streets are actually dark or if his vision has just blurred. It’s not clear how long it takes for him to return home, but it must have been a long time, as his legs give in the moment he enters his room. He folds himself on the bed and he wraps his arms around his body. The shivers carry on and he’s unable to form coherent thoughts.

_Donghyuck, eyes, father, fear, the gates, the demons._

Mark cries himself to sleep that night, while the words persist in his ear.

 _Donghyuck, eyes, father, fear, the gates, the demons. Donghyuck, eyes, father, fear, the gates, the demons._ The words are hyenas, bellowing in the wilderness.

“We received a call,” is what his mother tells him, first thing in the morning.

“You are not to see that boy again,” his father says, much later, as they drive him to the mansion.

“Mark, what did you do?” It’s Jeno this time, as he calls Mark on his phone. Mark is waiting, sitting still on a wooden chair in his grandfather’s study, the walls and the windows massive. Jeno’s family, it seems, have also been told.

“Jeno, I’m scared,” is all he manages before he has to put the phone down, hearing the click of the doorknob.

“I understand what you’re feeling right now,” his grandfather says. In Mark’s eyes, he is a monstrous creature sitting behind a wooden desk. “You should know, Mark, that whatever happens next will be for the best.”

Mark lowers his head and clenches his fists as he feels the tears begin to pour.

“There there.” For once, his grandfather’s voice isn’t deeply stern. He stands and slowly, he walks over to Mark. He places a hand over Mark’s head. His caress is slow, and Mark begins to feel strange. 

“This will help you heal,” his grandfather says, the energy of his touch flowing into Mark.

Over the next few hours, all Mark sees are swirls of blue.

When he wakes, he is back in the car and the sun has begun to set. He looks out the window and sees that he’s on a highway. Behind him is the expanse of the road, cars rushing by, the town of his birth a blur in the distance.

It’s his father who drives, with his mother on the passenger seat.

No one dares to speak. Mark glances at the sky and wonders if he can make it rain. He wonders if he can send over the showers and somehow let Donghyuck know, by force of will, that it wasn’t his choice to leave him behind.

“Mom, Dad,” Mark says, when he finds the courage.

“Yes dear?” his mother replies, without so much as a glance in his direction.

“If I write a letter, will you give it to him?”

It’s his mother and father who share a glance.

“Very well,” his father says.

Mark closes his eyes and reclines on his seat. As he hears the whirr of the engine, he mulls over his words, what he would tell Donghyuck to make him understand. For a moment, he thinks, perhaps, that this will be the very last time they will be able to communicate. But mere seconds later, he shakes off the thought and replaces it with something more hopeful.

He’s only able to write much later, when he’s far away, at a new home, in an empty shell of an apartment.

_Dear Donghyuck,_

_I’ve just arrived in Busan and it’s raining outside my window. My fault again. I don’t need the dreams anymore to make it rain. I’m sure grandpa will be thrilled to know this._

_But that’s not why I wrote. I’m sure you know that._

_I hope you know that I didn’t mean to leave you behind. And I hope you know that there’s nothing I want more than to see you again, hold you, and kiss your cheeks until we fall asleep._

_I do hope you’re spending Christmas happily. It’ll be hard, I know. Of course I do. But we have to try. Music should help. And food too. Eat some good food._

_I’ll see you again, I’m sure of it. But we’ll have to give it some time. All we can do is wait. Until then, please be happy. Keep being reckless. Keep singing. Talk to Jeno for me, please. Fuck, that guy’s gonna miss me, I’m sure of it. So go ahead and talk to him. And always remember what I taught you about the fire. About intention, and focus, and will._

_Every day, I’ll think about you. Please think about me too._

_Stay warm, Donghyuck. I love you. And believe me when I say I always will. Always._

_Yours forever,_

_Mark_

🌊 🌊 🌊

🔥🔥🔥

**{Part 2}**

Donghyuck is twenty-four when he moves northward to Seoul. With him, he brings a mobile phone with cracked glass, one trunk of clothes, three hundred thousand won, and a folder of photographs -- headshots for when he goes to auditions. Apart from all that and a few toiletries, there’s only one other thing, sealed in an envelope, Mark’s name written in large black letters, the paper wrinkled and torn at the edges from the number of times he’s read it over the years.

Jeno waits for him at the shared apartment, which Donghyuck insists he can find on his own. The directions in the text are very clear, though he decides a bit of a detour wouldn’t hurt.

There’s always time for adventure. He walks along the busy sidewalks of Jung-gu, where he takes a photo of the imperial palace from afar. His arms hurt from pulling on his luggage, but he’s determined to see more of the city. He wanders through an underground mall connected to a subway where he buys a soft-serve cone with strawberry sprinkles. Then, Donghyuck finds his way to an alley with graffiti art painted on to the side of the buildings, anti-war propaganda in large, red symbols fit for an Instagram story. 

When Donghyuck moves on, he notes just how many cafes there are in the city. At every corner, there’s either a Starbucks, a Holly’s, or an independent shop with cute calligraphy in its logo.

A cappuccino is too expensive at the shops so Donghyuck opts for a can of black coffee with a K-pop idol’s face, straight from the fridge of a 7/11. 

As he drinks, he walks through a small park, then watches a group of dancers sway their hips to a new song by a female pop star. Donghyuck hums along to the track even as he saunters away.

The sun becomes particularly hot as the clock strikes two. Donghyuck sighs, waves his hand, and decreases the temperature around him by a good two percent.

After hours of dilly-dallying, Donghyuck finally arrives at the apartment at half-past four. Jeno is all smiles when he sees him (though when _isn’t_ Jeno all smiles, to be honest). They shake hands, hug, before Jeno lets him inside to meet the other tenants.

The first is Kim Jungwoo, a tall fellow who’s leaning on the kitchen counter playing a game on his phone while the sink runs on its own. He only moves to pick up the dishes one by one, as they’re magically cleaned on their own. He smiles and sizes Donghyuck up from head to toe before giving his hand a shake. A water wielder, for sure.

The second is Wong Kun-Hang, who’s asleep when Donghyuck first sees him. His hair is red, a colour Donghyuck wishes he can have back. There’s a box of fireworks by his closet, and when Donghyuck asks Jeno what they are for, Jeno tells him not to even mention it. When he wakes, he tries to play a trick on Donghyuck by reaching out with a searing hand. But Donghyuck touches him and doesn’t feel a thing, which makes Kun-Hang grunt, “Another fire wielder, eh?”

The last of them is a guy named Na Jaemin, who shares Jeno’s room. For all intents and purposes, he’s a normal guy. A big reader, it seems, based on the number of books in his shelf and the thick volume of fairy tales that he slips into his armpit before giving Donghyuck a handshake.

“He’s, um, a scholar,” Jeno says.

Jaemin smiles and explains, “Grad student, actually.”

Jeno adds, “Studies Korean folklore.”

“Ah. I see.” Donghyuck tries on a smile, though he’s wary of anyone who may very well view him as some kind of object for study.

Donghyuck and Jeno sit at the balcony that evening. Donghyuck’s beer fizzles as he opens the bottle, and as he takes the first sip, he looks out to the expanse of the city. Beyond the low-rise buildings of their neighbourhood are the city lights, red, yellow, green, etcetera. From up here, he hears the chitter-chatter of a family of five, the buzz from an engine, the howl of a dog; the combination of sounds, to him, are like music. If he concentrates well, he can make out the clicking of stovetops and the rising of fire in various apartments along their street. 

“I think he’s coming here soon,” Jeno says.

“I know,” says Donghyuck. “I saw him on TV last month.”

“A big cheater, that one.”

“You were the same back in high school. Cheated your way through all those swim meets. Little did they know that our school’s swim captain had gills for lungs.”

Jeno chuckles then takes another sip of the beer. “I talked to him last month. I wanted to tell him you were coming here.”

“And did you?”

“No, not without your permission.”

Donghyuck nods, then looks away, “Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“He mentioned you, you know.”

“What did he say?”

“He wondered if you watch him on TV.”

Donghyuck smiles, then gulps down the rest of his beer. 

“Tell him I do,” Donghyuck says. “But only to see what he’s done with his body.”

“Donghyuck.”

“I’m serious.”

This sends both of them to a fit of laughter. Donghyuck sighs once he catches his breath and he asks Jeno for another beer. They stay on the balcony for another hour before they have to go inside to eat dinner with the others. The group is warm and welcoming, Jungwoo asking a lot of questions, Kun-Hang pretending to eat fire, and Jaemin watching amusedly at the side. 

Donghyuck doesn’t turn in till late, as he returns to the balcony, lights up another smoke, and leans forward against the railing. As he stares back at the city, he envisions what it would be like, if he does get to see Mark again.

 _‘You’re an asshole’,_ he would say, first and foremost.

 _‘You’re not actually a very good swimmer, are you?’_ he would ask, just to annoy him.

 _‘I never forgot,’_ he would add, and Mark would know exactly what he means.

 _‘Did you?_ ’ he would ask Mark, and he knows Mark would shake his head, then hold Donghyuck tight. He would touch Donghyuck in a way that feels familiar, in a way Donghyuck has longed for night after night for many years. The thought makes him shake and he ends up biting his cigarette as he leans on the railing. He used to think that if they’re apart for this long, the feelings would go away and things will get easier. But no, they have not. They have only gotten harder.

🔥🔥🔥

On the day of the national championships, Donghyuck is alone at the apartment, his flatmates all busy at their jobs. The whole time, Donghyuck is at the edge of the sofa seat and he becomes dejected when he sees Mark overtaken by another swimmer. The category is 400M freestyle, Mark’s arms moving with the water in powerful strokes, his legs crashing against the waves as if the water is an enemy meant to be vanquished.

Donghyuck doesn’t know when he turned into the proverbial lover cheering for their significant other, but that’s exactly what he has become. It is easier now that Mark is doing it on a national scale. When they were in college, all Donghyuck could rely on were clips on social media and live news feed from Pusan National University’s student publication.

After all these years, he does still think of himself as Mark’s boyfriend. Donghyuck’s never been with anyone else, and if Jeno’s stories are anything to go by, Mark hasn’t either. 

In his mind, his loyalty to Mark is a form of rebellion against everyone who opposes their relationship. Donghyuck’s mother and father, Mark’s whole family, the powers-that-be in their respective clans. 

Donghyuck wonders whether Mark’s grandfather even watches these things, if he or all the other adults in Mark’s life even care about anything other than his powers. He remembers seeing the old man’s name on the papers, _Kim Minwoo_ , a day after the storm that ravaged their town. Donghyuck remembers how his heart sank for Mark and how he realised that everything for this man was simply a game, one that can be rigged and paid off.

It frustrates him that he even thinks about all this. He needs to focus on looking for a job, the whole reason why he even moved to Seoul from the country. Back home, he’d attended a local college before working at a small corporate office. He only stayed at the job for a month before deciding to drop everything, move to Seoul, and pursue his love for theatre.

Mark told him to keep singing. And Donghyuck is really, really trying. He did a lot of local productions back home, but the work never amounted to anything. So he’s here, and he will have to scour the Internet to find open calls for singers, dancers, extras, whatever it is that they need.

After watching the championships, Donghyuck sits on his bed with his laptop in front of him, listing down potential auditions. Mark won his category; of course he did, so Donghyuck feels at peace enough to sort through the job ads, one for a theatre company that does Korean versions of Shakespeare, then another for a chorale that performs for musicals. 5 PM next Thursday for the first; 3 PM next Friday for the second.

His eyes hurt from staring at the screen for a good two hours, so he falls asleep later in the afternoon. 

When evening comes, Donghyuck hears a shuffling from outside that tells him that at least one of his flatmates has arrived from work. He goes to check and discovers that it’s Jeno, who’s pouring himself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen. 

The two of them talk about their day, though there isn’t much to say, given Donghyuck’s uneventful afternoon and Jeno’s snooze of a job as an IT assistant. Later, the apartment grows noisier, as Kung-Hang arrives with the gift of booze. Jungwoo won’t come until later in the night; Jaemin also has class till seven. So the three of them sit together and drink, with Kun-Hang talking about a girl he met this afternoon, a customer at his job at Laneige Cosmetics. _Really fuckin’ cute,_ he goes, _Tiny. Kinda timid._ _Saw her a couple times already._ Jeno gives him tips about how to pursue her, which he says is based on years of experience. Donghyuck laughs, finding it all ridiculous.

This life is idyllic, Donghyuck feels. He already knows he'll be much happier here than he ever was back home. He tells them this, feeling sentimental. Jeno pats his back, smiles, and Kun-Hang ruffles his hair. Donghyuck lets them know about the auditions he’s got lined up, and in response, he gets nothing but encouragement. It makes him miss Mark and the way he praised everything Donghyuck would do. Though until they can be together again, this idyllic life should be more than enough.

🔥🔥🔥

He is twenty-five when he gets a proper job at a theatre company that stages plays outside of Myeongdong. They give him secondary roles and he has to wear old-age makeup for many productions, though he knows with a bit of time, he can move up the ladder.

It’s the 23rd of December. In the evening, Donghyuck has to play the Ghost of Christmas Present for a staging of the Christmas Carol. He has to put on a wig of brown curls and a green robe with white frills, not enough layers for the cool of the theatre. 

Before clocking in for the dress rehearsals, Donghyuck has to walk through rain and as they slip into their outfits, his castmates rant about the suddenness of the weather. Donghyuck makes nothing of it as the assistants help him with his costume and his makeup artist begins to work her brush to bring some brightness to Donghyuck's cheeks.

_“You see what you will see, Scrooge, no more. Will you walk out with me this Christmas Eve?”_

For the performance, Donghyuck masters the jocular lilt in the spirit’s voice. He has to smile a lot, but then he has to be wise and ominous in the latter half of the act.

_“Hunger, Ignorance. Not spirits, Scrooge, passing dreams. They are real. They walk your streets, look to you for comfort. And you deny them!”_

The audience claps loud at the end of the scene, as the crew moves in lightning speed to change the backdrop.

Once the play ends, everyone gathers backstage for drinks and Donghyuck occupies himself with a glass of martini, set atop his vanity desk as he works on removing the last of his makeup. He hands the robe to a stagehand and slips into his polo shirt and jeans.

He’s speaking to another actor when an assistant hands him the bouquet, red roses with the thorns snapped from the stems. 

“It seems you have an admirer,” says Soomi, the actress who plays the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Donghyuck looks at her, perplexed, before he turns his attention to the card attached to the plastic. 

His eyes bug out when he reads the message.

There is no time to waste. Donghyuck grabs his coat and runs, through the hallways of the theatre, then out the wooden door. The bouquet remains in his hand, its petals dropping from the rush.

Once on the street, he’s disoriented with the number of people, groups of men and women, children with their parents out for the night. He pants and feels as if the world has turned on its head in front of him. There’s a searing in his neck as he circles his head, left to right.

But he finds him, right there, a few meters away, in a beanie and checkered coat, his smile crooked, and his shoulders somehow broader than Donghyuck imagined.

His gasp is involuntary. His steps become languid, weak. 

The bouquet drops to the ground. The fire will come if he doesn’t let go.

Mark grabs his hands and prevents him from burning.

“Were you just gonna leave—Mark, goddammit—after writing that fucking message, were you just gonna leave?”

_Always. Yours forever._

That’s all he wrote. 

Donghyuck heaves and feels the heat starting to rise in his fingertips. But Mark holds him tighter and presses their foreheads together. Suddenly, Donghyuck feels like a teenager again. He’s transported back to his childhood bedroom. It’s been exactly seven years, he realises. Seven years since that fateful night.

“I would never leave,” Mark says. “I came to see you, please believe me.”

“You say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“You’re so fucking corny, Mark. I fucking hate you.”

“I know.”

It takes all of Donghyuck’s strength not to kiss Mark in the middle of the street. If they were different people, things would be much simpler. But they are two boys, water and fire, and the world hates them for simply existing.

They settle for hugging amid the stream of onlookers. His throat is hoarse and his heart throbs out of his chest. The first time he hugged Mark, he was seventeen. So much has changed since then, but one thing that hasn’t is the way Mark makes him feel. 

Words escape him. Mark leads him somewhere; he vaguely hears Mark say where they are going. His vision goes misty, perhaps from the weather, perhaps from Mark’s magic, which somehow feels more powerful than ever before. 

That night, they go to bed together and make up for lost time. Donghyuck claws at Mark’s back and screams when Mark takes his cock inside his mouth. They don’t attempt the magic from before, the mixture of lights that Donghyuck now associates with trauma and separation. Instead, they take things slow. Mark nibbles on his collarbone and Donghyuck grabs at his hair. They press themselves together and Donghyuck’s body shakes as he works to stroke the lengths of their cocks with a single hand. 

Once they finish, their cocks dripping against their stomachs, Donghyuck offers Mark one last kiss before he gives in to sleep. Though he does wake in the middle of the night and finds Mark sitting up, bathed in a faint blue light. It might be the lamp, or it might just be him. Mark covers his face and breathes deep. Donghyuck doesn’t know what it means and he doesn’t have the strength to ask. All he can do is lean closer to Mark’s body and hope that with this, Mark will feel even the slightest bit of comfort.

🔥🔥🔥

Their time together is much too short. 

Mark is only in town until New Year’s. After which, he’s flying back to Busan where his family now lives.

Donghyuck doesn’t take it against him. Instead, he relishes the little time they have together and spends hours in Mark’s hotel room. 

Their second night together is Christmas Eve. Donghyuck spends part of the night with his legs hooked around Mark’s back, a pillow under his own back as Donghyuck is fucked for the very first time.

He tilts his head and arches his body, every ounce of self-control leaving him as he moans through pain and adjusts to having Mark inside him, fully, all the way to the hilt. 

His breaths are ragged and the sight before him doesn’t help. Mark’s body is long and lithe, better than all of Donghyuck’s fantasies from the past seven years. He wants to lick the sweat dripping on Mark’s forehead, on his chest, and on the v-shape that leads to his cock. 

When Mark begins to thrust, Donghyuck’s first reaction is to smile and moan.

“I fucking love that,” Donghyuck says. Before today, all he’s had inside him were toys and fingers. Now, Mark is finally inside, and it’s so much better than he could’ve imagined.

“Well get ready, Hyuck,” Mark whispers, right in Donghyuck’s ear, before he pulls out and thrusts back in, hips slapping against Donghyuck’s skin.

Donghyuck whimpers and his hands clutch the blankets. Mark pumps into him again, this time more powerful. 

“Dude, you are so fucking hot,” Mark says, and then he thrusts again, this time making Donghyuck scream.

“Harder,” Donghyuck says. “Harder, please.”

His words send the right signal. Mark does exactly what Donghyuck wants, fucking him harder and faster. Donghyuck’s body shakes and he whimpers as Mark tells how fantastic he is, how tight he is, how fucking dirty this all feels, and how he’s wanted this for so long. Donghyuck closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to think about time. All he wants to think about is how full he is and how the cum is starting to build inside his member.

He lets Mark ram him from behind, and then he rides Mark for a good ten minutes before Mark takes over, thrusting up to meet the bounce of Donghyuck’s ass. 

“Do it harder,” Donghyuck says, as they stand with Donghyuck against the wall. He spreads the clefts of his cheeks, presenting his hole, waiting for Mark to enter again.

“Fucking _hell_.” Mark sounds desperate, and it’s just what Donghyuck wants to hear. “You like this, huh? Fuck yeah, baby, you are so fucking warm.”

“Of course I am,” Donghyuck says and hopes Mark knows what he means.

“How are you not on fire?” Mark says, then wraps his arms around Donghyuck’s body.

“It’s because of you,” Donghyuck says. “You keep me grounded.”

By the end of it all, Donghyuck and Mark are back on the bed, and Mark’s thrusts decrease their tempo. Their lips touch as Donghyuck keeps Mark locked with his legs. Donghyuck feels it when Mark cums, pelvis shaking while his length remains in Donghyuck’s body. Donghyuck arrives at a climax not long after, shivering as a spurt of cum lathers his stomach and Mark offers him his final few thrusts. 

Mark’s hands remain on his hips as their kisses become languid. His bones are weary and the only thing that keeps him from crying is the touch of Mark’s tongue as it slides against his own. It’s midnight, officially Christmas, and Donghyuck realises that they now have less than a week together.

Mark spends time licking Donghyuck clean and Donghyuck does the same for him, slipping each of Mark’s fingers inside his mouth. The night ends with them telling each other, for the first time in years, that they love each other. Still, Donghyuck doesn’t cry. He will save the tears for later, for when he can no longer deny the passage of time.

🔥🔥🔥

For seven days, Donghyuck keeps himself by Mark’s side.

“There’s so much I wanna do with you,” Mark tells him, one time in bed, a second time on New Year’s Eve, their sixth day, as they climb to the top of the Namsan Seoul Tower, the air the chilliest it has been since the beginning of winter. 

They buy a padlock, where Donghyuck writes their names with a red marker. He attaches it to thousands of others, an assortment of colours and promises fastened tightly to the tower’s fences. Other couples write messages, pledging long lives of happiness with their partners. Donghyuck doesn’t bother with an actual message and is content with their names side by side — _Donghyuck and Mark._

“And I thought I was the cheesy one,” Mark says, hand on Donghyuck’s back as they pull their feet up the wooden steps towards the highest part of the tower.

“Hey, I can be cheesy when I want to. You’re just not around enough.”

This wipes the smile off Mark’s face and replaces it with something wistful, then something sad. 

“Donghyuck, what if I said—” Mark starts to say this when they are back in the hotel. On the floor they sit, across from each other on each side of the coffee table. For dinner, they eat individual packs of rice and beef from the nearby convenience store. “What if I said this was the last time we could ever see each other? That this is it. That after this, you’ll never see me again.”

“I would tell you to go to hell,” Donghyuck says, then frowns. “And I would tell you to finish your fucking rice. I spent good money on that.”

“Donghyuck.”

“So what are you telling me, Mark? That I waited for nothing? Hm? Is that what you’re about to say?”

“No.” Mark puts down his chopsticks. “I’m just worried, Hyuck. There are things I can’t control.”

“Then tell me what they are. I can help you.”

“No, you can’t.” Mark looks at him, eyes full of pain. “I’m sorry, Hyuck.”

If there’s anyone who can understand what Mark is going through, it’s Donghyuck.

“Yeah,” he says, then averts his gaze. For the sixth day in a row, Donghyuck wants to cry.

Briefly, he finds comfort in Mark’s touch, as Mark stands and wraps Donghyuck in a tight embrace. Donghyuck curls his arms around Mark’s neck and tries his very best to convey all the warmth that Mark didn’t have all these years.

“Thank you,” Mark says, no explanation needed.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Donghyuck says, and then kisses Mark for what feels like the millionth time since he arrived.

Donghyuck remains in denial until the morning. During the night, they watch the fireworks on TV and Donghyuck fucks himself on Mark’s cock until the clock strikes three. Mark spills inside him and Donghyuck stiffens, seeing white as Mark jerks him to a climax. 

In the morning, Donghyuck brings Mark to the airport. No tears are shed and no promises are made. Donghyuck says goodbye, something he wasn’t able to do the last time, all those years ago — and he kisses Mark when no one is looking. Mark hugs him tight and tells him that everything he said back then, in the sealed letter, still holds true. Donghyuck tries not to laugh but ends up doing it anyway.

“Corny as always,” Donghyuck says and Mark’s eyes shine at him with a faint glow. 

The next day, it rains. Donghyuck knows it’s a message. On his phone, he types and begins a text that he never sends. _What are you doing_ , he wants to ask. _Stop this right now_ , he wants to say. _I know you miss me_ , he wants to add. _I can wait another thousand years if that’s what it takes._

🔥🔥🔥

The years burn away. Donghyuck turns 26, then 27, two whole years without Mark in his presence.

In that time, Mark doesn’t call him even once and Donghyuck is back to learning things through the grapevine: through the TV or Jeno. Donghyuck even loses the former when Mark suddenly quits the national team. The official announcement is brief, explaining Mark’s departure and citing personal reasons for the decision. As he reads the online post, the first thing that comes to Donghyuck’s mind is how he’s lost another way to see Mark’s face.

For months, Donghyuck is conflicted about calling Mark himself and asking him what had happened. But time burns away once again and he loses the nerve.

These days, if he’s not working, he occupies himself with online ads for cheap apartments. Jeno tries to discourage him from moving, but Donghyuck insists and begins his hunt. Money isn’t scarce as he’s saved enough from his stage work. He reckons it’s time to grow up and truly fend for himself.

Jaemin is the one who manages to delay Donghyuck’s hunt, as he requests him for a couple of days as part of his research for his debut novel. Donghyuck obliges since Jaemin is important to Jeno and Donghyuck has a soft spot for his friend.

He gets many questions about fire wielders, their history, the way they control their magic. Donghyuck answers to the best of his ability, knowing this will all go into something fictional. “Fire wielders have existed since time immemorial,” he says, “though we were only second to be created. The first were the water wielders, who controlled the seas. As you know, water trumps fire. Our powers will never be as strong as theirs.”

“Jeno tells me you fell in love with a water wielder. How did that happen?”

At the question, Donghyuck frowns and glares. He taps his finger on the table and lights the stove behind him with a blue flame, making Jaemin sweat.

“Next question then,” Jaemin goes.

They take breaks between interviews, so Donghyuck finds the time to tell Jeno off once he returns from work, “If he asks me one more question about Lee fucking Mark, I swear I’m going to set his little head on fire.”

Jeno asks him to calm down and Donghyuck hisses, turning away so he can go to the balcony and light a cigarette.

Jaemin finds him there later and asks if he’s okay. “I’m sorry,” says Jaemin. “I didn’t know it was that touchy of a subject.”

Donghyuck ignores him and simply stares at the city. He wonders if his coming to Seoul was a mistake. Perhaps he should’ve stayed at home, or perhaps he should’ve moved to Busan instead. 

Though he thinks of the demons, the ones who wait for him there, and realises that Busan was never an option.

At dinner, Donghyuck apologises to Jaemin and admits he was being harsh. “I’m a little bitch, always have been,” he says.

“We all know,” Jeno says, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

He moves out a month later, on an autumn day, as he finds an apartment one train-stop away from Jeno’s. All his former roommates help him with the move. Kun-Hang, ever the angel, drives them in his car, boxes of Donghyuck’s things sitting in the trunk. Jungwoo clings to Donghyuck’s arm throughout the whole car ride and Jeno comments that he still has one more chance to back out and return to their flat, a motion that Jaemin seconds.

“Already paid my deposit,” Donghyuck says, though he considers the offer very seriously.

They turn on the TV as they help Donghyuck arrange his things. Kun-Hang and Jungwoo help him with the stuff for the kitchen, while Jeno and Jaemin assist him in the living room. The news is on and all the coverage is centred on Busan.

For a whole week, it’s been raining in the city and people are fearing the inevitable floods.

Donghyuck crosses his arms as he watches the footage of the torrential rain. The streets in Busan’s city centre are void of life. Citizens are forced to retreat to the safety of their homes.

“This is nothing,” Jeno tells him, squeezing his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry.”

Which is exactly what Jeno would say if Donghyuck absolutely needs to worry.

His thoughts wander to Mark and the day he sent a storm that ravaged their town. He remembers the rage of the thunder and the way his mother did everything she could to stop the water from seeping through their windows. The flood was easy for them to dispel, as they used their magic to dry whatever came. But nothing could stop the damage on their windows, on the roof, on the plants his mother cared for. He never told Mark how much destruction he caused that day; he probably knew but was too afraid to acknowledge it.

He has Mark’s number, so Donghyuck can easily pick up the phone and ask. 

Unable to make a decision, Donghyuck lies awake in bed pressing the home button on his phone, the light going on and off, revealing just how much time has passed since he first lay down.

The next morning, he flips through the news and sees that the rains in Busan have weakened. 

The following day, he scrolls through the news again. The rains, it appears, have become drizzles.

In the night, the dark clouds disperse. Donghyuck’s heart comes to a rest. He’d drafted a message for Mark to interrogate him about what had happened, but he quickly deletes the note from his phone. Perhaps there isn’t anything to be worried about after all.

🔥🔥🔥

He is 29 when he lands his first lead role, as Don Lockwood in _Singin’ in the Rain_. Donghyuck, however, is unable to enjoy it. It’s all too ironic, Donghyuck thinks.

Two months into rehearsals, the news of the impending storm south of the nation is all the cast and crew can talk about. The rains are meant to be disastrous and people are bracing themselves for the onslaught of floods.

What makes Donghyuck wonder is how it all seems premeditated. The water wielders never usually give the world fair warning.

His worries pass, however, when the storm becomes a false alarm, suspiciously docile despite the omens from the north, dark clouds and strong winds. He concentrates on rehearsals; the practice for the dances are hard on his body, but he pushes through them with a smile.

When they begin to shoot the promos, Donghyuck once again hears talk about a storm, one that will hit their own city this time. His director, Doyoung, even calls him to make sure he has enough supplies to last the weekend. “This is gonna be a big one,” he says, as Donghyuck speaks to him through a speakerphone, Donghyuck sitting against the large mirror of the dance studio. Today’s practice is particularly difficult, so they allow him a break to sweat it out. “I don’t want a single scratch on your face, you hear me?”

By an odd stroke of luck, Seoul is saved on the day the storm passes. Its winds calm as it traverses the mountains in the countryside and the torrents weaken with the thinning of the nimbus clouds.

When Donghyuck calls Jeno, he says the water wielders have nothing to do with it. “I swear, Hyuck. You’re overthinking things. Mark doesn’t cause all the storms, you know.”

More showers arrive very soon. This time, Donghyuck doesn’t take it sitting down. He walks out to his balcony and drenches himself in the pouring rain. He looks to the sky and tightens his fists.

“ _Mark!”_ he screams. “I know this is you. Talk to me, _please!_ ”

As expected, no answer. Donghyuck grunts, thinks, hears the clap of thunder from far away.

He clasps his hands together, as if in prayer. They glow, a faint shade of red. Donghyuck concentrates and recalls what Mark taught him about intention. He envisions the flares of the sun vanquishing the heavy clouds. 

Donghyuck drops to the ground and kneels. No matter what he does, no matter how much he tries, nothing works.

He gives up and dries himself. His magic brings heat into every room of the flat. It’s what he needs so he can sleep soundly.

In his dream, he finds himself on a cloud.

He lifts himself on his shoulders, then stares up at the faraway sun. He looks down and sees that his clothes have changed into all-white, shorts and shirt.

When he turns, he finds that Mark is lying beside him, in the same white clothes. His eyes are drawn shut in a state of peace.

“I called for you,” Donghyuck says.

“I know,” says Mark, then he breathes, in and out.

“Is this real?” asks Donghyuck, looking around to see nothing but the clouds and the blue sky.

“Try and touch me,” Mark says. “I’m as real as it gets.”

Mark opens his eyes and extends a hand for Donghyuck to hold. He takes it and feels the cool on Mark’s skin. Mark’s gaze is loving and happy. Donghyuck smiles back and finds himself pulled down to his side so Mark can wrap his arms around him.

“I’m going away,” Mark says.

“Don’t say that. You promised me, Mark.”

“I promised that I’d love you forever. That’s still true.”

Donghyuck shuts his eyes and burrows himself in Mark’s chest. “No, fuck. Please, Mark. Just tell me what’s wrong. Just tell me what I can do. I’ll make it better.”

“They’re afraid of me,” Mark says.

“I don’t understand.”

“They tell me I’m a monster. So I need to be locked away and I’m letting them do it.”

“Where? Where are they taking you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Mark, I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t, not really. I’ll be here. In the clouds. You can see me whenever you want.”

“But won’t you be lonely?”

They pull apart. Mark’s smile never falters. “If I’m ever lonely, I’ll just think of your face and I’ll be fine. That’s how I’ve lived most of my life, Hyuck. More than a decade of loving you, can you imagine?”

“Mark, listen to me. We’ll get you out of this.”

“Hyuck, I’m fine.”

“But Mark.” Donghyuck pulls Mark’s shirt, the same shade of white as the cumulus clouds. “I got the lead role, Mark. And it’s for a musical. You’ve got to see me sing. I need you there on opening day.”

“I wish I could. I would love to.”

“I need you there. You don’t understand.”

“Hyuck, it’s okay.”

“No, please, no.” Donghyuck begins to cry, the tears heavy as they stream across his cheeks. His mouth shakes and his hands cling tightly to Mark’s shirt.

He cries for what feels like hours. Mark holds him through it, but he eventually disappears, leaving Donghyuck in a land of darkness. His sadness turns into anger, and his tears turn into flames. Donghyuck screams and replaces the expanse of black with orange, yellow, red, fire.

When he wakes, the rain is no more. He looks out the window with tired eyes. On his phone, there’s a text from Doyoung, reminding him of rehearsals later in the day. 

All Donghyuck can do is go about his day. They only have a few sleeps until opening night, and he has no choice but to persist and forget. At the rehearsal, the stage crew yanks him around, makeup, eyelashes, costume, _that’s not the right shoes! Get him the right shoes!_

On the day they open, Donghyuck feels not a single ounce of happiness. His former roommates sit at the audience, and Jeno texts him good luck for his very first performance.

“ _Good night, Kathy. See you tomorrow.”_ Donghyuck tips his top-hat and smiles at the woman before him.

_“Good night, darling. Take care of that throat. You’re a big singing star now, remember? This California dew is just a little heavier than usual tonight.”_

_“Really? From where I stand, the sun is shining all over the place.”_

He smiles through the lines and leans to kiss the girl in front of him. The music begins. He snaps his umbrella to a close, perching it onto his shoulder as the makeshift rain falls on his suit. His smile doesn’t falter. It’s time for him to sing. 

🔥🔥🔥

The musical runs for three months. In that time, there is light rain, but never a storm.

Donghyuck is quiet about what he knows. At times, he questions whether or not the first dream was real. It’s Mark himself who assures him that it is.

“Are you cold?” Donghyuck asks, as he pads his feet over a cloud, Mark walking by his side.

“No, never,” Mark says. He lifts a hand over his eyes and looks above. “The sun is kind to me.”

“That’s good.” Donghyuck nods. He reaches out, quickly, so he can touch Mark, but once again, the dream dissolves.

But it’s just like Mark said: Whenever Donghyuck wants to see him, he simply has to wish for it. And in a bitter twist of irony, Donghyuck sees him more than he ever has in the past decade. Every night, he wishes for him and they meet on the clouds.

“You know something, don’t you?” It’s Jeno who says this when Donghyuck comes to visit. 

They’re at the balcony again, smoking their cigarettes. Donghyuck glares at him, fire between his fingers. “And you knew something a long time ago and never told me.”

Jeno shakes his head, letting out a cloud of smoke. “He doesn’t call me anymore. Hasn’t for months.”

“They’ve locked him up, Jeno,” says Donghyuck. “That’s what he told me. I don't know what he means, but that’s what he said.”

Jeno regards him, his face hardening. He turns to hold the railings. “How did he tell you this?”

Donghyuck tells him about the dreams and the clouds. “I see him every night.”

“Fuck,” Jeno says, then lifts a clenched fist to his forehead. “I knew this would fucking happen.”

“But he said he’s alright.”

“You and I both know that he’s a fucking liar, Hyuck.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“Nothing, we can’t do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Donghyuck drops his cigarette, putting it out with his shoe. If you asked him a month ago, he would have been more adamant about finding a way out of this. Since then, he has learned to accept and let things run their course. Though that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less and that he doesn’t recognise just how much pain Mark must be going through. If he knew how, then he would take it all away. 

Jeno falls to the ground, knees bent toward his chest as he begins to cry into his arm. Donghyuck sits beside him and takes his hand. Amid the sobbing, Jeno tells him that he wishes he knew how to help, but he’s always been useless. Jeno tells him about the call on that lonely December day, more than ten years ago, when Mark called and told him he was scared. He must be feeling the same way now, but Jeno still can’t do anything about it. Donghyuck grips him tight and tells him about the letter Mark sent him back then. “He told me something really valuable,” Donghyuck says. “And I think that’s all we can do now, Jeno. All we can do is wait.”

🔥🔥🔥

It is much harder than it sounds.

For weeks, Donghyuck doesn’t wish for him, because he can’t bear to look at Mark in the face.

By the fourth week, he finally builds the courage. When he’s brought to the clouds, Mark doesn’t speak and his eyes have grown sullen.

The next day, Donghyuck wishes for him again and this time, Mark has chosen to talk. 

“I’ve held up your life for much too long. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

“I’ll suffer even more if I never see you again. You should know that by now.”

“It’s a hopeless case, Hyuck.”

“It’s only hopeless because you never fucking tell me what I can do.”

“Even if there were, it would be much too dangerous.” Mark turns his back to him and for the first time in years, Donghyuck feels Mark’s anger.

“So there _might_ be a way,” Donghyuck says. 

“Just leave it.” Mark’s head turns, slightly. The clouds around him begin to change colour.

“I’ll come to you,” Donghyuck says. “I’ll go to Busan. I’ll find you there, Mark.”

“You can’t.” Mark closes his fists and a bolt of lightning suddenly strikes from below.

Donghyuck grabs his arm and then he smiles, resolute. Mark’s eyes go wide.

“Just watch me.”

He swears, before the dream ended and before everything turned to dust: Donghyuck swears he saw Mark nod. 

It’s enough to confirm the validity of Donghyuck’s decision. He will not wait anymore. Whatever he said to Jeno, whatever he said to himself, he burns them all to the ground.

“Just watch me,” he says again, mostly to himself, as he stands and looks out the window. It’s not raining where he is, but he reckons it must be raining somewhere else. 

When Donghyuck leaves the flat that day, his hands have already started to glow. He leaves a trail of fire with every step he takes, but no one else can see. Mark told him about this years ago, but Donghyuck never believed him. _You had so much faith in me back then_ , he speaks to Mark and wishes for him to hear. _I would have never become the person that I am if it weren’t for you. So please believe in me again, Mark. If you do, I can help you. You have never let me down, and I won’t either._

🔥🔥🔥

🌊 🌊 🌊

**{Part 3}**

The first time he truly loses control, Mark is twenty-four. They make him stand on the roof of a skyscraper overlooking the sands of Busan. The building is one of many that his grandfather owns and it serves as the new site for his lessons.

Though after all these years, he knows they are not actually lessons. They are tests, plain and simple. The tests happen less often now that he’s of age, but when they call him, he still has no choice but to comply.

“You will lead us someday,” his mother once told him. “And if you’re going to do that, your powers must be fully realised.”

They make him stand at the ledges. Below him are a hundred stories from which he can fall. There is barely any wind. For today’s test, he is meant to use his hands to summon the gusts.

Behind him, his grandfather stands wearing a black suit, waiting for Mark’s reply to his question. “What do you fear?”

Mark breathes, a sickness rising his stomach as he imagines himself plummeting to the ground. 

“Loss,” Mark says.

“Loss of what?” 

“Just loss.”

“I know you well, son. It’s that boy again, isn’t it? You’re afraid of losing him.”

At this, Mark is silent.

“You’re afraid that we might end his life, am I correct? Think of that for a moment. Imagine it happening. Imagine how we might drown him. Visualise it. His lifeless body, out of breath.”

This is the moment that Mark loses control. He brings the winds as instructed, while imagining what his grandfather describes. But he has crossed a line this time and Mark won’t be taking things silently. He steps down from the ledge and faces his grandfather. He feels an icy chill cloaking his eyes. His mind and body no longer feel in control. The power dominates him and he raises an arm, a blue light emerging from the lines of his palms. 

His grandfather rises in the air, his eyes agape as Mark envelopes the man’s body with the blue light. Mark hears the sound of his voice, struggling to breathe. Mark smiles for a moment, but then he feels a hitch in his lungs. It dawns on him, suddenly, what he’s about to do.

He releases him and Mark falls to his knees. What happens after that is a blur. People in suits take him by the arm. He is taken to a room, where his father screams at him and his mother holds his face, in disbelief that her boy could do such a thing.

Mark shakes his head and tells them he doesn’t know how it happened, that it’s not his fault, that it won’t happen ever again.

They do not believe him. From this day forward, something changes. He is no longer the boy meant for great things. He becomes the monster whom everyone fears.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Things are calm for a few years, and no one dares to speak even when they learn of his week with Donghyuck in Seoul.

But Mark knows that something is coming, which is why he never promised Donghyuck that they would meet again. 

In time, Mark decides that if they are going to fear him, then fear is exactly what he should make them feel.

When he is 27, he makes it rain in the city for a whole week. The news cycle is in chaos, reporters unable to withstand the winds, and Mark can only stare blankly as he watches it all unfold. He realises then that he can make the world spiral with a simple stroke of the hand.

Jeno tells him that he must be going crazy. “This isn’t like you,” he says over the phone. 

“This is exactly like me. This is what they’ve always wanted me to be.”

Jeno warns and threatens to tell Donghyuck about what he’s been doing. 

Mark pleads, “You can’t do that, Jeno. Don’t tell him, _please_.”

So Jeno doesn’t and Mark comes to his senses. On a later day, he promises he won’t do anything as reckless ever again.

For a whole year, Mark makes good on his word, but he can only control himself for so long. He brews a storm in the north, bringing winds that ravage town after town. He’s brought to tears when he sees the destruction, so he weakens it before it reaches the capital.

He decides, then, that he must do something before it is too late. 

His course of action is to speak with his grandfather, who summons him a few days after the storm. 

They bring him to the living room of yet another mansion north of the city. When Mark arrives, he bows in deference. His grandfather grabs him by the hair and pulls up his head. “You’re not fit to lead us,” his grandfather says. “I can’t believe I spent all these years teaching someone so dishonourable.”

“Grandpa, please,” Mark says, face caked in tears. “End this for me.”

He pleads and pleads until his grandfather responds, “Very well.”

Mark becomes cloaked in his grandfather’s magic. He sees the swirls of blue, often meant for healing.

“Remember that you chose this.”

Mark closes his eyes and feels himself shake. While he remains conscious, he thinks about the city where Donghyuck resides, and he thinks about the clouds that litter the city’s skies. He asks them, one last time, to listen. He sends the rain and all the tears he’s shed over the years. 

“ _I’m scared,_ ” Mark says, and these are his very last words, as he feels his soul leave his body.

🌊 🌊 🌊

When he wakes, he is lying on a cloud. He closes his eyes and tries to look for his body. He sees it in darkness, but they’ve kept it somewhere safe, it seems. Knowing that, he feels content.

 _Mark,_ comes a voice. _I know this is you. Talk to me, please!_

He smiles, hearing the voice. 

“I’ll be here. In the clouds. You can see me whenever you want.”

“But won’t you be lonely?”

Mark knows that he will. But loneliness is in his blood. And as he spends more time in the clouds, he comes to realise that loneliness can only be truly felt if you have a sense of time, and he is only ever struck by the concept of time whenever Donghyuck comes and goes. It’s in those moments that Mark does feel the wounds of loneliness and the bone-crushing guilt for what he’s done to the person he loves.

When the guilt comes, the clouds turn dark.

There’s a throbbing in his head. Mark kneels and pulls on his hair. 

“This can’t be happening,” he says, as vivid images of cities and storms begin to swarm his vision. He isn’t supposed to see such things again. His powers are meant to be sealed.

He screams and wills the thoughts to go away.

Donghyuck finds him in the aftermath, quiet and sullen. He’s unable to find the strength to speak.

It is much too dangerous for Donghyuck to keep seeing him. When Donghyuck returns, he tells him this in a roundabout way.

“I’ve held up your life for much too long. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

And Mark turns his back to him, keeping his distance. Donghyuck asks him, yet again, if there was something he could do to fix things.

“Even if there were, it would be much too dangerous.”

“So there _might_ be a way.”

“Just leave it.”

Mark doesn’t want to argue. Around him, the clouds begin to darken.

He keeps silent as Donghyuck declares his intention to find him, to bring him back to the world. 

Lightning strikes. Mark cannot control it.

But Donghyuck is persistent.

Donghyuck touches his arm and Mark is shocked to see the resolve in Donghyuck’s face.

“Just watch me.”

It’s as if he’s fallen in love all over again. The Donghyuck in his memory has always been reckless and Mark has always been a slave to his whims. He remembers the very first time Mark saw him, cycling through the street with his auburn red hair. He recalls the matches in his backyard, the ones Mark had to put out when Donghyuck’s flames grew much too large. And he remembers how Donghyuck ran to him in the middle of the street, hands glowing as he threw the bouquet of roses on the stone pavement. 

Mark nods before Donghyuck disappears. For once, he might allow himself to be saved.

He knows, however, that saving him will be a daunting process.

Time, he finds, has begun to creep on him again.

Their seal hasn’t worked. The monster inside him is dormant but it is slowly breaking away from its chains.

 _It cannot be_.

Mark knows exactly whose voice rings in his ear.

The ice returns to his eyes, cloaking them in its hue.

_You made me like this, grandfather. Whatever happens next is out of my control._

🌊 🌊 🌊

🔥🔥🔥 **  
**

He makes it to Busan before the rain starts to pour.

When he arrives, there is chaos at the train station. Donghyuck can’t find a single taxi or bus to lead him to the beaches.

 _You’re trying to stop me, aren’t you?_ Donghyuck thinks, as he finds himself getting wet from the downpour and trudging through crowds of people as they rush towards shelter. 

Donghyuck searches for an alternative and finds one in the form of a bicycle, chained to an iron post in front of a convenience store.

When no one is looking, Donghyuck lights a fire and melts the chain. 

This is how he ends up cycling through the road towards Haeundae Beach. The city is unfamiliar and he has to stop now and again to check his phone for navigation. Sheer determination, with a mix of adrenaline, allows him to keep him going.

 _That’s where his office is,_ Jeno told him. _At the tallest skyscraper in Haeundae Beach. That’s all I know, Hyuck. Are you really going to do this alone?_

Donghyuck nodded and assured Jeno that he will be fine.

Though he isn’t sure what will become of him once he faces the monsters who locked Mark away. He has an inkling that someone will end up dead. 

The journey tires him and he’s drenched when he arrives. Thunder roars and a streetlight sparks as lightning hits the ground.

Lee Minwoo’s office is on the hundredth floor of the building. Lee Minwoo, Mark’s grandfather, the worst man on the planet in Donghyuck’s eyes. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to find a way up to him, though Donghyuck does have an idea that may very well bring the bastard down.

There are two guards at the entrance, whom Donghyuck finds a way to distract by lighting fire to all the streetlights in the vicinity, the flames large enough so the rain is powerless against them. The guards rush out in shock and as they talk on their radio phones, Donghyuck slips past the glass doors unnoticed.

“I have an appointment with Chairman Lee,” Donghyuck says, to a confused pair of ladies in business jackets. He leans on the desk, a smile plastered on his face as water drips from his hair. 

“It’s very, very important,” he adds, before he places two hands on the reception desk. He continues to smile as his hands begin to glow. 

He looks up to the ceiling and peers at the yellow light. Its glass explodes and fire bursts. He smiles, then he fixes his gaze at the women once more.

“I’m here to talk about his grandson. So make it quick.”

🔥🔥🔥

Minutes of waiting. Minutes that he spends lighting fire to a pencil then throwing it towards the ground to scare everyone in the lobby. He puts it out, of course, because he isn’t crazy. 

“You’re an actor, aren’t you?” says one of the receptionists, and Donghyuck smiles, not expecting to be recognised.

“A theatre lover, eh?”

The woman nods and smiles through her shivers.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Donghyuck assures, before he hears the ring of the elevator.

He comes face-to-face with the old man and a group of men in black suits. The old man, Minwoo, walks with a cane and wears glasses that hide the colour of his eyes. He is expressionless, as are the faces of the others around him. 

Donghyuck’s hands glow anew.

Minwoo speaks first, “We meet at last.”

Donghyuck closes his fists, feeling the fire seep out of him. “Where the _fuck_ is my boyfriend, old man?”

“You want to find my grandson.”

“Yes, of course I do. I literally just asked you where he was.”

Minwoo adjusts his glasses. “You truly are a fire wielder. So feisty.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. Tell me where Mark is or I’m going to light this whole building on fire.”

Minwoo smiles, while Donghyuck glares. “Fire does not scare me.”

Donghyuck grits his teeth. He gives his hands a shake and lets the fire loose. “We’ll see about that.”

_Always remember what I taught you about the fire. About intention, and focus, and will._

Donghyuck recalls Mark’s words as he dashes across the room, the flares growing larger on his fists.

They’re at arms-length when Minwoo raises a hand to stop him. Donghyuck becomes paralysed and the fire in his hands goes out. Minwoo pushes him back with the brute force of his magic, a blue emanation forcing Donghyuck to the ground, where he ends up wet from head to toe.

Donghyuck heaves until one of Minwoo’s henchmen grabs him by the neck. 

“Knock him out,” Minwoo says, before the man tightens his grip around him.

Donghyuck struggles, trying to light the flames once again. He finds that he can’t, and he’s petrified to see the blue glow emanating from the man’s eyes. Tears flow down his cheeks as he’s unable to put up a fight, as he realises that he failed Mark despite all his talk. Slowly, his breath begins to leave his lungs and the warmth in his body turns to ice. He shivers, feeling the last of the oxygen.

🔥🔥🔥

Donghyuck hears the rain. Even as he finds himself on the clouds, the rain persists. 

The cloud where he walks is darkened and heavy. Mark is nowhere to be found. Donghyuck runs and hears his own footsteps, its pitter-patter on the wet surface below him. 

He stops when he’s at a dead end. If he takes one more step, he’ll be sent into a pit of darkness. He wonders what will happen if he lets himself fall. He has a feeling that if he jumps, he will just keep falling.

There’s only one way to find out.

He takes one step and surrenders himself to the unknown. 

His eyes remain closed as he drops through the abyss. The wind and the rain wipe him clean of all his troubles. Then, it all stops, and he feels a hand tugging on his arm. When he lifts his gaze, he sees another man’s arm, and then he sees Mark’s face, the panicked expression and ragged breaths leaving his mouth. He’s reminded of Mark as a teenager, who was always worried for him even though Donghyuck never worried about himself. Donghyuck allows Mark to pull him up, back on the cloud, where they find themselves laid down and wrapped in each other’s arms.

Donghyuck holds his face and kisses him. Mark’s eyes are half-lidded as Donghyuck bites his lower lip. They hug each other tight and Donghyuck whispers that this isn’t the end, not yet. He will still find a way. Mark nods and tells him that he knows, that he feels Donghyuck wherever he is. Right now, he knows that Donghyuck is close. _Have I never told you that? I can always tell, Hyuck, whenever you’re near me, because I feel your warmth spilling inside me. I felt it since the very first time I met you._

Donghyuck smiles and kisses the tip of Mark’s nose. _I will find a way,_ he goes. _Even if it takes me a lifetime, I will bring you back._

🔥🔥🔥

The sound of the ocean waves wakes him.

For a moment, everything is sunny and Donghyuck sees the silhouette of a man reaching out to him. He knows that it’s Mark even if he can’t see his face.

The illusion shatters with the pellets of rain. Donghyuck finds himself on the beach and he lifts himself onto his shoulders, realising that he isn’t alone.

To his left stands Minwoo, an umbrella held above him by another man. Donghyuck peers behind and sees the other men in suits. Above him, the rain pours with no mercy and water drips through every nook and cranny of his skin.

“You wanted to know where my grandson is,” Minwoo says, eyes transfixed on the sea. “Well here we are.”

Donghyuck heaves, searching his body for energy but failing to do so. “I don’t understand,” is all he manages.

“You want him back, yes? Be my guest. Bring him back.” He raises a hand and for a moment, he shakes. In the ocean, a bright light reveals itself. “That is all the help I will give you. The rest is your responsibility.”

Donghyuck looks to the ocean, at the gleam that has sprung upon the old man’s behest. He makes a fist on the sand and with all the strength left inside him, he attempts to pull the fire out of his hands.

“And what is fire supposed to accomplish?”

Nothing at all, but Donghyuck has nary a clue what to do.

They leave him there, the men walking across the sand to return to their ivory tower. Donghyuck shakes, feels the bruises left on his legs, struggles to lift himself to his feet. His will has never been stronger, though he feels at a loss all at the same time. How can a lowly fire wielder like him bring someone out of the ocean?

His breaths are ragged as he stands.

“Damn, Mark.” His eyes draw shut as the wind and rain continue their rapid descent. “You sure are making this hard for me.”

A few steps forward, he decides. A few steps towards the water. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mark.” He strides forward, the ache in his body worsening. The water ripples at his feet. He knows if he moves further, he will be swept by the currents, but he finds no other way but forward. 

The tears start falling as his legs are submerged in the water. He continues to walk and continues to submerge himself. All the while, he keeps his eyes transfixed on the light and he imagines Mark within it, perhaps shrouded in its gleam, safe under the water. 

Once half his body is submerged, Donghyuck stops. He shuts his eyes once more and clasps his hands together against his chest.

He prays and summons the fire yet again. He intends for the disappearance of the rain and for the sun to rise. Light and fire, he knows, are closely connected, so this must be worth something. 

But nothing works. His weakness overcomes him. Donghyuck’s tears become as much of an onslaught as the rain. He walks, again. Submerges, again. Pleads, again, for Mark to tell him something, anything. But nothing works.

His intentions mean nothing. His fire means nothing. The lowliness of his status hits him once more. All Donghyuck can do now, to his misfortune, is let the ocean waves engulf him. That’s what he’s been doing for the past ten years, so there shouldn’t be much of a difference. 

With another step, all he sees is blue.

🔥🔥🔥

🌊 🌊 🌊

Fantasies can be lethal, as they often lead to unmet expectations and broken hearts. Mark, however, finds that his fantasies, no matter how much they shatter him to pieces, have also allowed him to keep going.

One such fantasy occurs at his childhood home, which he imagines he would someday own. In the vision, it’s the summer and he is in the master bedroom, refashioned for its new tenants with posters of Broadway musicals, a shelf of old comics, a set of speakers on the bedside table, suddenly on as it begins to play a piano accompaniment to Mark’s peaceful morning. The curtains open and Mark squints, grumbles. Donghyuck tells him to wake and Mark pulls him back into bed, where they roll around and waste a whole hour. Later, he finds himself in the kitchen where the stovetop clicks open with a wave of Donghyuck’s hand and a pot of porridge lets out steam that makes Mark’s mouth water. He embraces Donghyuck as he cooks and Donghyuck allows him a quick taste of the food. Their life is nothing short of bliss, a paradise Mark escapes to when the truth of his future often hits him. 

In another fantasy, he’s eighteen again, on the 23rd of December. He imagines what it would be like if he and Donghyuck weren’t caught. The lights on their skin grow bright; Mark is filled with a rush of ecstasy as the warmth of Donghyuck’s body crashes against his own. They are soft with each other and Donghyuck grins as he climbs Mark’s body and strips himself of his remaining clothes. Smears of Mark’s kisses litter Donghyuck’s collarbone; scratches on Mark’s back brand Mark as a prized possession, as no one else’s but Donghyuck’s. The fantasy always ends with Mark shaking, both in the dream and in reality. 

He imagines what life would have been like if he were a normal boy: how his family would have loved him in a way that didn’t suffocate; how he and Donghyuck would have been together much earlier because Mark would not have had any reservations about being close to him. He would still have to fight his parents to the death so they would accept them, but they eventually do and everything would be fine.

These are fantasies that return to him as Mark is trapped in an orb of blue, one he entered by his own volition. He remains in stasis under the sea, where creatures pass and boats float above him, none of which discern his existence.

The storm surges and Mark is alone, enclosed, as he relives his fantasies. His body is a glacier, his eyes the centre of the cold. Though there remains a sliver of warmth, as he senses Donghyuck’s spirit on the surface of the world. _I felt it since the very first time I saw you,_ he’d said, because the sliver was very much implanted in his heart as if Donghyuck meant to put it there permanently.

Mark walks aimlessly on top of the clouds. Donghyuck was here just a while ago, but Mark ensured to throw him back where he belongs. He said he would bring Mark back, _even if it takes a lifetime,_ but Mark knows it is close to impossible. 

The hitch in his heart comes suddenly. The sound of the rain dulls and Mark begins to hear another heartbeat.

There’s screaming, a struggle, a loss of breath. Mark’s eyes widen and he feels the warmth inside him slowly dissipate.

He lowers his head, “Donghyuck?” There’s no denying it. Mark places a hand on his chest and he feels Donghyuck slipping away.

“Why is this happening?” he says, breathing hard. “Why are you doing this, Hyuck?”

 _I don’t know what to do, Mark_.

“I hear you, Donghyuck. Please, _don’t do this.”_

He sees flashes of Donghyuck, his tear-stricken face, then his body submerged. 

“Mark.”

“Hyuck, _why are you here_?”

Donghyuck materializes in front of him and he holds Mark’s face in his hands. “I hate it when you look like this,” he says.

Mark places his hands over Donghyuck’s. He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall. “You’re leaving me,” he says.

“You left me first.”

“Because I had to.”

“I know,” he says. “But now you have a choice to make, Mark. You either stay here and leave me forever, or you’re going to help me find a way to bring you back. And don’t tell me that bringing you back will be a mistake, because I’m telling you now, _for a fact_ , that that won’t be true. You’re not a monster, Mark. You never have been. You’re just a man, not unlike any other.”

“You’re _dying_ Hyuck. My mistakes, what I am—it all led you to this.”

“I told you to stop with all that, didn’t I? Mark, listen to me. Whatever happens to me, whether I die or not, you have to get out of this place. And I know you can. I know what you’re capable of. You’re the most powerful water wielder in all human history. I’ve known this since we were younger; you never needed to tell me. Not even old Mr Lee can seal you up properly. So Mark, as the person who’s loved you for more than a decade, I’m telling you this. I’m giving you an order. Release yourself. It’s about time.”

Mark opens his eyes and finds Donghyuck staring back at him. “And what if you die?”

“All the more reason. You will not insult my memory, Mark.”

“But Donghyuck.”

“No. Shush.” Donghyuck hugs him, keeps him quiet. “Whatever you’re about to say, I already know. Now be brave for me, Mark. Because I’m being as brave as I’m ever gonna get, and I’m doing it all for you. Now do the same for me.”

Mark hesitates, but nods. It’s an order; he doesn’t have a choice. It’s time to be brave.

“Alright,” he says. “But you have to stay with me.”

Donghyuck’s smile has always been a comfort, and his words even more so. “Always,” he says.

They hold each other’s hand. Mark feels the warmth return to his heart as Donghyuck sends it over. 

“I’m gonna do everything I can,” Mark says. “Just keep holding on to me, okay?”

Donghyuck raises a brow, and Mark has to laugh, even just a little. “You have to ask?”

“I guess I don’t,” Mark says, before it all begins.

The rush inside him is very familiar. The ice within him slowly melts. He knows he’s been stupid; he knows he has never made any proper attempts to break away from the chains. All he did was accept because chains are all he’s ever known. He faces Donghyuck and sees the glow forming in his eyes. For a moment, he’s in disbelief. But then Donghyuck smiles at him and tells him it will all be alright. Mark looks down at their hands, the familiar lines of red and blue swiftly taking over. With his other hand, Donghyuck touches his face. “I’ve never loved you more,” he says, before he kisses him. As Donghyuck’s lips burn him, Mark grips his arm and holds him tighter. 

Their magic comes and coalesces. It bursts and lets itself out to the world. Amidst it all, they kiss and Mark feels himself wake. 

“It’s about time,” Donghyuck says, before everything fades.

🌊 🌊 🌊

🔥🔥🔥

Mark is hardly the only one who has fantasies. Donghyuck thinks his own are even more extreme.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.”

He rolls over on the bed, leans in, and whispers in Mark’s ear. 

“Damn, Hyuck.”

“But there are other ones.”

“Like what?”

It’s a rainy day, both now and in the fantasy. Donghyuck is a wanderer on a mountain, on a journey towards the nearest town where he hopes to find a roof for shelter. He’s in an olive green cloak, soiled from mud and dirt. His feet have grown weary from his travels, and he feels as though he will faint at any moment. And as Donghyuck finds himself kneeling on the rocky ground, his saviour comes, a god with eyes the colour of the ocean. “I have come to help you,” the god says (though it’s really just Donghyuck doing a voice). He carries Donghyuck in his arms and confesses that he’s been watching Donghyuck all this time and that he couldn’t bear watching him suffer any longer. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”

Mark looks at him incredulously upon hearing the story.

“That’s a whole...drama, Hyuck. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I work in theatre, Mark. What do you expect?”

They smile at each other and Mark is the one who leans in this time for a kiss. While under the covers, Donghyuck pulls on Mark’s shirt, whines and tells him to take it off. Mark does as he’s told and the next thing they know, Donghyuck’s desire leads him to sink his teeth into Mark’s ribs. Mark takes his revenge with a bite on Donghyuck’s nape. They go back and forth, leaving marks on each other’s bodies until their lips meet again for another kiss, heart-wrenching, familiar.

Donghyuck knows this is all another fantasy, yet another lucid dream. But he’s learned, over the years, that dreams can very well come to fruition if he wishes hard enough. He almost drowned in the ocean, for god’s sake. The universe owes him this. The universe owes him a wish.

When Donghyuck rouses, he is on the sand and Mark is beside him, eyes closed. Donghyuck touches Mark’s stomach and is relieved to feel its rise and fall.

The rain has passed. Donghyuck looks up to the sun and finds no trouble looking directly into its rays. He smiles and lets his head rest on Mark’s chest. His bones are weary, but he has enough energy inside him to summon his magic. He dries them and offers Mark all his warmth. 

“You’re safe now,” he tells Mark, a whisper in his ear.

Mark doesn’t wake and Donghyuck doesn’t expect him to. He lets him sleep, and Donghyuck does the same so he can recharge. The next time Donghyuck wakes, Mark still doesn’t stir and Donghyuck decides to carry him on his back.

People begin to leave their shelters and walk through the streets. This gives Donghyuck a chance to ask for help. “We need an ambulance,” Donghyuck says, as he heaves and speaks to a confused looking woman. She takes a brief pause, baffled at Donghyuck’s desperation, before bringing out her phone.

When they arrive at the hospital, he makes up an elaborate lie, telling them that he and his friend had gotten in a scuffle. He tells them he doesn’t know the guys that did it, as they wore black masks over their heads. At this, the doctor furrows her brows and Donghyuck avoids her eye.

Mark wakes a day later, and Donghyuck is there, sitting beside his hospital bed when he opens his eyes.

“Where am I?” Mark asks, voice groggy from sleep.

“Hospital,” Donghyuck says. He takes Mark’s hand and holds him tight. 

“Is it over?”

“It is.”

“Is this real?”

“Of course.”

“I wanna hug you.”

“We’ll do it when you’re better. They said your bones need rest.”

“Oh. Okay.” Mark smiles, and Donghyuck ducks, leaving a brief kiss on Mark’s lips.

“I’m glad we’re both alive,” Donghyuck says, face close to Mark’s.

“It was horrible, Hyuck. I swam as fast as I could so I could get to you. And I thought you were dead.”

He imagines Mark, bursting out of the light, and swimming through the currents to save Donghyuck from drowning. He won’t admit it, but the thought makes him smile.

“But I’m not dead,” says Donghyuck. “That’s what matters, yeah?”

He kisses Mark again as a way of comfort. Later, he feeds Mark some soup and Mark asks, again, if they could hug. Donghyuck snickers and gives in this time. He curls up next to Mark and they feel each other up under the sheets. Though Mark winces when he bends his arm the wrong way and Donghyuck sighs, “I told you so.”

“I’ll just heal myself,” Mark says. “I’ll heal myself so I can touch you properly.”

“You do that,” Donghyuck says, kissing him fiercely.

Sure enough, Mark musters the energy to heal himself the very next day. As he and Donghyuck exit the hospital, they hold hands, without a care for whoever might see.

Donghyuck looks up to the sky, the weather pleasantly cloudy. 

“So what now?” Mark says, and Donghyuck shrugs.

“Wherever life takes us.”

“Is that a line from your play?”

“Might be, I dunno.”

For a moment, Donghyuck thinks this is another dream, another fantasy that the universe will take away. But it isn’t. It’s real. Donghyuck was brave and his wish was granted. Though he does become wary, yet again, when Mark pulls away from his hand. But then he watches Mark extend both his arms, breathe, smile, and say, “I finally know what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks, though somehow, he already knows.

Mark doesn’t answer and instead, he takes Donghyuck’s hand again, pulling him through the sidewalk, leading him to god knows where. They might get lunch later, perhaps a coffee; then they might find a way to call Jeno, assure him that everything’s fine. Jeno will be shocked; he probably thinks they’re both dead. There’s much to worry about and much to do, grandfathers to watch out for, mothers and fathers to ignore, whole clans to fight, as they’re against the mere idea of Donghyuck and Mark in the same space. But the two of them have a power that no one can touch. Donghyuck blushes at the thought of it, at the thought of his feelings having this much strength. He’s dizzied as he watches Mark looking so at peace with him, looking happier than he’s been all his life. 

“I have a story to tell you,” Donghyuck says, Mark’s arm around his waist as they walk through the city.

“Fire away,” Mark says. 

“Well.” Donghyuck pauses and smiles. “It begins on a mountain.”

Donghyuck opens his mouth and Mark listens. And so the story goes.

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [twt](https://twitter.com/lc_sweetwine)! Appreciative of all the kudos/comments that come my way. :)


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